Bruce sat on the couch, book in hand, with Hal comfortably leaning against him. Hal’s head rested on Bruce’s shoulder, and he was scrolling through his phone with that relaxed, easygoing expression Bruce knew well. Every so often, Hal would sip from a can of Coke, looking completely at ease.

Bruce found himself absentmindedly running his fingers through Hal’s hair, the soft rhythm of it grounding him in a way he rarely allowed himself to feel. He could hear the occasional quiet chuckle from Hal, who didn’t seem to notice how much Bruce’s attention had drifted from his book.

“Anything interesting?” Bruce murmured, his voice soft, his fingers still gently combing through Hal’s hair.

“Just everyone else’s adventures,” Hal replied with a lazy grin, his gaze lifting briefly to meet Bruce’s. There was something peaceful in Hal’s presence, a warmth that Bruce let himself lean into, even if he’d never say it out loud.

With Hal beside him, the book forgotten, Bruce let himself just be—content, grounded, and maybe, just a little bit reckless.